2 min read
Слушать

Echo to Him Who Complains

O

LY thee from the shades of night,  Where the loud tempests yelling rise;

Where horrror wings her sullen flight  Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.

As the pale light'ning swiftly gleams  O'er the scorch'd wood, thy well-known form More radiant than an angel seems,  Contending with the ruthless storm.

I see the scowling witch,

IR  Drink the big tear that scalds thy cheek;

While thro' the dark and turbid air,  The screams of haggard

VY break.

From the cold mountain's flinty steep,  I hear the dashing waters roar;

Ah! turn thee, turn thee, cease to weep,  Thou hast no reason to deplore.

See fell

IR expiring fall,  See

VY from thy glances start;

No more shall howling blasts appall,  Or with'ring grief corrode thy heart.

See

IP from her azure eye  Drops the fond balm for ev'ry

She comes, the offspring of the sky,  "TO

ZE

HE

ES OF

HE brain."

0
0
37
Give Award

Mary Darby Robinson

Mary Robinson (née Darby; 27 November 1757 – 26 December 1800) was an English actress, poet, dramatist, novelist, and celebrity figure. She live…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

Любовь как сон
Вязальный экстаз
Мольба моя к тебе
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+